


Goro and Futaba's Ace Detective Club!

by Xyalin



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: AU Sojiro adopts Goro and Futaba and they solve mysteries together, AU no Metaverse, Akira probably, I have a constant flowchart in my head so idk yet, More tags to come!, Morgana maybe, Multi, or IS there? >.>
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-04-24 10:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19171813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyalin/pseuds/Xyalin
Summary: After Goro pisses off the head of the orphanage by setting his sacred porn stash on fire, he's kicked out and sent to live with Sojiro Sakura. When a depressed and socially anxious Futaba Isshiki comes into the mix, the two of them make the most of their school life the best they can: by creating their very own Ace Detective club!TL;DR AU where Sojiro adopts Futaba and Akechi and they solve mysteries together with some other familiar faces ofc





	1. Bad Timing

**Author's Note:**

> Oh wow, I wrote my first fic exactly one year ago--did not plan that! 
> 
> Anyways...I always wanted to write a fic where Sojiro adopts Goro and Futaba and they solve mysteries together...and then the layout for it kinda just popped into my head one day! 
> 
> A quick note that Goro is just a little bit different here than in the game. While he still keeps up his charming persona (heh), he's not in the public eye and he hasn't been in the Metaverse, doing what he does for Shido. He still has all the nice quirks resulting from a mix of his natural personality and shitty childhood, but there are still some choices he may make differently because he lived these last couple years totally different from canon.
> 
> Sojiro is also a bit different because of certain life events, as well.
> 
> Finally....why doesn't my indentation show on this website???

*****

*****

Goro didn’t regret setting the porn stash on fire. As far as flammable objects went, those cheap magazines made pretty good tinder.

Not that he needed tinder; Goro just liked to think ahead and be prepared for all situations. As if the orphanage weren’t enough of an uncivilized jungle. No, a camping trip in the wilds was the last thing he needed—though it would probably be far less savage than this dump.

But fear of the unknown was a powerful thing. No matter how loathsome, how abusive, how…utterly hopeless, this place was “home.” Being passed from relative to relative, and then from one institution to the next his whole life, to Goro home was the familiar. Home meant getting a lay of the place and picking up a routine. Home meant a roof over his head and enough sustenance to survive.

Tomorrow, he would leave the third institution he called home.

Leaving meant relearning which behavior put him on the good side of the top of the hierarchy—or rather, food chain. It meant trial and error— _painful_ trial and error. Fortunately, he wouldn’t have to switch schools, the one saving grace. Things had been bad in middle school, but high school was his domain. As long as he kept his distance and turned on minimum charm, he was the popular honors student they all looked up to. It helped that he had a pretty face—not that he’d ever admit that out loud in a million years. People didn’t like vanity, after all.

Still, with finals coming up, he could have chosen better timing to make a bonfire of the Fukuda’s sacred porn collection. Hindsight was 20/20. In Goro’s defense, he didn’t think he’d get caught—and that Fukuda, lord of the orphanage, would kick him out for it. Then again, the man had a soft spot for the adult actress, Nana Naito, and Goro distinctly remembered burning a hole through her perfect, white smile. That surely fueled Fukuda’s ire toward him—no pun intended. Goro wasn’t a fan of the adult film genre (in fact, it repulsed him), but Fukuda had a small, framed photo of her in almost every room.

 _My apologies, Naito-san,_ he had thought as the embers ate away at her glossy body, _your sacrifice will not be in vain._

Revenge was, to Goro’s mind, a noble pursuit. The authorities, however, held a different opinion.

After a round through Japanese bureaucracy at its finest—that was to say, at its most convoluted—Goro was to be placed in the care of Sojiro Sakura. Armed with the internet, Goro searched this man as best he could on a school computer. The results were frustratingly scant. The most he got was a solemn headshot from a news article dating back several years. As a minor government official, Sakura had been interviewed about certain local policies and his work with an “avant-garde” research facility…and that was it. Otherwise, the most he had been told was that Sakura lived alone in residential Yongenjaya. Goro had no complaint about the location, for what it was worth.

He stayed at school until closing, as per usual, then on to the highly tedious metropolitan library to browse the stacks and dive into another study session. Knowing what was coming tomorrow made the hours move slow as molasses. When he finally collapsed into his bed, his mind was racing and preventing sleep despite his exhaustion. By the next morning, he remembered nothing of his dreams

 

*          *          *

 

They chose Saturday in order to give him the weekend to adjust to his new living situation without worrying about school. He spent Saturday morning riding the train from Hachioji to Yongenjaya, backpack stuffed full of his few belongings (mostly academic materials he couldn’t leave at school).

He hated the shame that came with wearing his uniform on the weekend. Fortunately, his backpack might make it look like he was on his way to some school event—or one of those bizarre high schools that still had school on Saturdays—but otherwise, he may as well have broadcasted that he was dirt poor. While he did have some other clothes, of course, those had been easier to roll up and stuff in his backpack. On the downside, he was wearing material that didn’t breathe, and the closer he got to the inner city, the more sardines packed their way into the train. Goro was pressed up against three different salarymen at once during the last ride.

Then, the subway announcer that sounded suspiciously like the protagonist of Final Fantasy XV, declared their arrival at Yongenjaya, and a pit began to form in Goro’s stomach.

_Me, nervous to meet the old man? What bullshit._

He hadn’t had the appetite to eat even an apple for breakfast that day, so he was forced to conclude that it was, indeed, nerves upsetting his stomach. It didn’t help that the meeting location was unusual: Sojiro Sakura owned a café called Leblanc and had Goro go there instead of his home. He hated to admit it, but everything about the arrangement put him on edge. It was with a trembling hand that he opened the door to Leblanc. When balling it into a fist didn’t make the shaking stop, he stuffed it in his pocket. Not the best start to his new life, but things could’ve been worse.

The coffeeshop was pure _junkissa_. Goro’s eyes raked over the curtain by the entrance, dark wood booths under dim lighting from jewel-toned lamps over every table—all it was missing was some classical music playing in the background. These understated, retro types of places didn’t usually pull Goro in, yet he had a feeling he could find a sort of solace in this café. He could do without the TV at the end of the counter, though. Sojiro Sakura spared the occasional glance at it as he handwashed a water glass. His customers were content to sip coffee and converse in hushed voices, so Sakura likely hadn’t much else to do.

Goro noted that, though the old man had aged since the interview headshot, there was still that grave look in his grey, slightly droopy-lidded eyes. Sakura blinked when he heard the door chime and turned his head slowly turned Goro, who forced himself to walk forward. His body insisted on staying rooted to the spot, so his steps were rather wooden.

Sakura started on another glass. “So you’re him, huh.”

“Are you Sakura-san?” Goro asked even though he clearly knew the answer.

“I was wondering what type of kid I’d be taking in. It’s nice to finally get a look at you.”

Goro learned early on not to speak unless asked a question or hinted at to speak. In new situations like this, he followed the rule strictly and plastered on a polite smile.

“Not much of a talker, huh,” the man grumbled. “Anyway, no need to be so formal. Everyone around here just calls me Boss.”

Goro chuckled politely. “Duly noted, Boss.”

Without further ado, Sakura said, “Follow me,” and led Goro up the stairs at the back of the café. As he wondered whether his new guardian was going to put him to work right there and then, Sakura said, “From here on out, you get this room to yourself.”

It would have been a nice sentiment if the room weren’t dim, dusty, and practically overflowing with storage. He would have preferred the bare neatness of the orphanage, but at least the musty place was his alone. Upon reflection, he would have happily endured any sort of room for such a luxury.

“I’ll at least provide sheets for you.” Sakura eyed the bed in the corner. “As for the rest, well, you got your work cut out for you.”

“Thank you,” Goro said absently as he plotted out where to begin (and where to step). He’d have to devote the weekend to cleaning. Until the clutter and filth was taken care of, he couldn’t think about doing anything else, even studying at the library.

“I’ll leave you to that,” Sakura said. “We’ll talk more once I close up shop, alright?”

Goro bowed his head, and Sakura was on his way. Though a bit of the curmudgeon type, the man was already kinder than Goro’s other guardians had been. It put him on edge. The practical voice in his head shoved the suspicion aside for later and focused on the room. Adrenaline had wired him, so he made the most of it and started at the boxes near his feet.

 

*          *          *

 

Several hours later, Goro let out a big breath and proudly surveyed his work. The floor was swept and mopped with the supplies left out for him, and all surfaces were dusted. The storage junk was still on the floor, but the place felt less smothered. As he was about to flop onto the bed, sheets or no, Sakura paid a visit. Goro suppressed a groan.

“Oh, good,” Sakura said, dumping a pile of sheets where Goro was about to lie down. “I heard a lot of noise up here and was hoping it’d be something like this instead of…whatever kids your age get up to in this century.”

Goro smiled politely. It was safe.

Sakura, however, seemed all the more awkward for it. Anxiety crept over Goro again as he realized this man wanted to relate to him and converse, as opposed to obedient submission. That meant Goro would have to change and adapt his social tactics basically from scratch. A guardian figure requiring social behavior? Goro hadn’t been prepared for this—

 “Anyway, you should get some sleep, you look beat. We’ll talk tomorrow, how about that?” Sakura said more than requested before heading back downstairs.

 With the tinkling of the chime and clicking of the entrance lock, it struck Goro that he was utterly alone at night for the first time in years, if not forever. It was unnerving.

 Ready to collapse, Goro put the bedsheets on his new desk and lay on the mattress. He’d made sure beforehand that there were no bedbugs. On any other night, he would have felt disgusting—no shower, no bedclothes, no sheets—but tonight he didn’t care about any of it. A fear from deep inside intermingled with his exhaustion, and the voice of one of the older kids in the first orphanage, nine years ago, echoed shrilly in his brain.

_Aw, the baby’s scared of the dark? Scared a ghost’s gonna get you? We got tons of those here. I’ll lock you out one night and you can meet them._

That first year, his tormentor had switched between mocking Goro for sport and yelling at him to shut up while pressing a pillow over his face. It had completely depended on his mood.

Ugh, this was the last thing he wanted to think about at the moment.

Eventually, he slept—fitfully. The first night in a new place was always like this. Though he could catch snatches of sleep here and there, he never reached the deep sleep that came in a (relatively) stable and familiar environment. Because of that, he was looking even less forward to a talk with Sakura, but at least it’d be over with. Still, why did the nighttime always exaggerate any sort of unease that crept up from within? Rationally, he knew this happened every time, and yet he allowed himself to ruminate and fear instead of giving into fatigue and letting his brain shut down.

As always, it was better in the morning. The talk with Sakura and his first full day in Yongenjaya felt less daunting.

“Good to see you out of that stiff uniform,” Sakura commented when Goro had dressed and made his way downstairs. Money from Goro’s part-time job went pretty much to food or Uniqlo.

“Th-Thank you,” Goro said as Sakura pushed toward him a bowl of the most delicious-looking curry rice he had ever seen, along with a cup of scalding hot coffee.

To Goro, all food was equal—a vital resource to go down the gullet—and yet, he couldn’t deny this was quality. One taste of it and he knew Sakura could give Coco Curry a run for its money.

“Compliments to the chef,” he said, attempting his usual charisma and cringing inwardly when it fell flat.

Sakura chuckled good-naturedly. “Ya know, you seem like a good kid. And here I expected a mouthy troublemaker.”

“I’m happy to defy your expectations, sir.”

“Well, that just means I’ll have to keep my guard up,” Sakura said half-teasingly. “Clever cats hide their claws, and all that.” Then, “And I told you to call me Boss.”

As Sakura began wiping down the back counter, Goro sipped from the coffee, hiding his glare in the mug. When he lifted his face to Sakura again, he wore a neutral expression. “May I ask you something, Sa—Boss?”

“Hm?” Sakura lifted an eyebrow but kept his eyes on cleaning.

“Why did you take me in?” Goro softly tapped a finger on the counter next to his curry, a nervous habit as he awaited the answer.

“A relative or somethin’ of yours knew I was already planning to take in a kid coming here soon, and asked if I was interested in one more. Not her exact words. We go a way’s back and she promised you were a good kid, so why not? If it were just you, then I wouldn’t put you up in the attic, but that’s how it is.”

This was certainly news to Goro. “Which relative was this, if I might ask?”

“Risa Akiyama.”

Goro knew her…somehow. He knew he did, and yet he couldn’t call her face to mind for the life of him. She definitely wasn’t there to try her hand fostering him after his mother killed herself. Was she some distant aunt or cousin? No, that didn’t sound right…

“Ah,” Goro said, “I’ve never stayed with her after my mother passed.” This indirect statement was the closest he could come to an accusation.

 _If she’s that worried about me, perhaps_ she _should be the one taking care of me,_ he thought. Hypocrites. Every single one of them.

“Eh, all in the past,” Sakura said brusquely and changed the subject. Goro felt his annoyance flare and he drowned it with more coffee. “Since we’re here and we have time, let’s lay down some ground rules.”

Basically, don’t break the law and don’t break Leblanc. If he had to light something on fire again (Goro used all his willpower not to roll his eyes), then there were some old newspapers Sakura wanted to get rid of. Aside from that, Goro would work in the café from time to time.

“Any questions?” Sakura asked.

Goro spoke tentatively, unsure if he was overstepping his bounds. “You mentioned something about another kid?”

“What about it?” Sakura was matter-of-fact and yet…defensive?

Judging from that reaction, Goro would probably be on a need-to-know basis. “Is there anything you would like for me to expect or do?”

After a mental debate flitted across Sakura’s wrinkled face, he settled on, “Futaba is a couple years younger than you, starting her first year of high school at Shujin Academy. She’ll be in a guest bedroom.”

And that was that. “I look forward to meeting her,” Goro replied pleasantly, tapping his finger again as he eyed the clock.

With a terse word, Sakura made sure Goro was finished with breakfast and opened up shop. As Goro washed his dishes, Sakura schooled him a bit about the morning regular who often came at opening time. After that, he let him flee to finish cleaning and organizing his room upstairs.

Tomorrow was school, Goro’s last bastion of normalcy.


	2. Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Goro didn’t mean to shove his desk over. In his defense, there was a lot leading up to it..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was it really only mid-June that I posted this first chapter? It feels like forever ago. June has felt three months long... I feel like I say that every month.  
> Anyway, thanks for stopping by!

            Goro didn’t mean to shove his desk over. In his defense, there was a lot leading up to it and the climactic moment had been a blur.

               As if the academy were a beehive buzzing with its collective consciousness, the whole school knew about Goro’s new living situation. They scurried along to each other like rats, steering clear of him yet not far enough to muffle the whispering. People were so good at making it obvious they were staring at you even though you could never catch them in the act.

              _They don’t matter,_ he repeated to himself like a mantra. _None of these idiots matter._ But to him, they were everything and he knew it. His domain was crumbling before his very eyes.

               He caught one mocking whisper from an underclassman girl: _“The bigger they are, the harder they fall…”_ He wanted to throttle her. None of them knew the shit he had to deal with. Nevertheless, he plastered on a neutral expression and forced himself to take deep breaths. Goro tended to find such calming techniques useless; when he was angry, he wanted to stay that way and vent it out in force. Wasn’t calming down to release the anger like admitting defeat? He allowed the rage to simmer on low the whole day, pressing it down over and over again with each stare, each whisper. He could vent out his anger later, but for now, he had grades to keep up and a tattered reputation to mend.

_“I always knew there was something off about him.”_

_“Aw, I thought he was nice, but this…”_

_“Psychopaths like that guy always turn out to be the smart ones. I guess that’s ‘cause the stupid ones get caught early on.”_

_“I thought he was more like a sociopath than a psychopath?”_

                 The incessant, deafening murmurs of his classmates grew more numerous by the hour. Weren’t they supposed to be some of the brightest students in Japan? Why weren’t they paying attention in class? Perhaps it was because he was sitting in English and his ears automatically gave priority to picking up the Japanese over the teacher’s stream of foreign literary language, but Goro just couldn’t hold it together for much longer.

                 It was the next guy that made Goro shove his desk over.

_“He lived in an orphanage, right? No wonder his family didn’t want him—”_

                 And then it was all a matter of physics. The pent-up force acted through his hands that were clutching his desk.

                 Goro registered the yelps and startled jumps following the violent clatter of wood and metal on tile, but it felt like he was watching from outside his body.

                “Shut up. All of you.” He heard his own snarling voice shatter the silence in jagged pieces.

                No. Was that _him_? He’d said that out loud? He felt like a spectator in his own body.

                There was a moment where all was still and quiet. Everyone staring at him, including the teacher. When Goro felt in control of his body again (more or less), he left the room with legs like jelly. He headed for the old bathroom at the top of the gymnasium that no one ever went to and just breathed. He gripped the sink, waiting for his heart to stop pounding, and then splashed his face and neck. They were burning up despite the winter chill permeating the walls.

                After locking himself behind a stall, he sank to the ground and waited for the hyperventilating to stop.

                What was wrong with him? He never lost it in public, _especially_ not where people knew him. As he unbuttoned his white shirt that was half-soaked in sweat and sink water, and began to see spots, he realized distantly that he was having some sort of mental breakdown. If his brain hadn’t vacated, he would have turned 90 degrees and thrown up as he dreaded what tomorrow would bring.

                It turned out that he didn’t have to wait that long. When school let out a couple hours later, Goro made the walk of shame from the library (where he had sought refuge after cleaning himself off) to his classroom. His homeroom teacher was there instead of in the office as he usually was.

               “Akechi-kun, I had a feeling you’d come back today.” Mr. Yamada smiled kindly. He was a few years shy of typical grandpa age, yet everyone always thought of him as one.

               Goro returned the smile weakly. All he wanted to do was apologize, collect his belongings, and pretend this day hadn’t happened.

              “It looks like they want to speak to you in the office.”

              There went that plan. Goro went and endured a talk that was a defeating mix of pity, concern, and reprimand.

              “That said,” the principal finally wrapped up the mostly one-way conversation, “we believe it may be the most beneficial for you to have a fresh start.”

               He snapped to full attention. He didn’t like where this was going.

              “You have been one of our star pupils since you stepped foot in this academy, so we took it upon ourselves to search for the best transfer for you.”

              “I see,” he managed to croak. His voice sounded dead even to his ears.

              “Due to your, er, recent incident, we could only find a handful of good schools open to the transfer.” The principal lowered her eyes for a moment. It almost looked like sympathy, even regret, but Goro wasn’t in the mood to give her the benefit of the doubt and consider it as such. Part of him disdained her decisions, made by a heavy hand not out of her own convictions but due to the external pressure she faced as a female authority figure. Women weren’t allowed to be soft with their power in Japan or they were fed to the sharks. Goro despised her for being so weak with her principles.

              Oblivious to this judgment, she continued on, “We believe Shujin Academy would be the most prudent option.”

              Shujin Academy was an elite preparatory school for either top tier students or top tier athletes. In spite of that, Goro’s school was number one, so everywhere else felt like a step down. He forced himself to nod after she spoke.

             “Please consider it. I’ve sent an annotated list to your student e-mail.”

*          *          *

            “Staying outta trouble?” was Sakura’s greeting to him.

            Now that he had a new private sanctuary, Goro had skipped the usual library trip and went straight upstairs after a bow of greeting to Sakura.

            Shujin Academy…Shujin Academy. Shujin. Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin Shujin—

            Otherwise, his mind was numb.

            _What the fuck is this?_ he thought, hysterical laughter bubbling from him. He smothered it with a pillow before anyone downstairs could hear.

            Before closing up shop, Sakura gave him a holler about it, his usual terseness tinged with uncertainty. He waited a moment for a response that Goro didn’t—couldn’t—give, and locked up.

            Once the coast was clear, Goro screamed into his pillow. When that wasn’t enough, he squeezed his eyes shut and let out a yell into the coffee-scented quiet. This room was the only thing keeping him sane. This quiet attic all to himself, warm and filled with an aroma that encapsulated the elusive concept of “home.” He had never known how much he needed this until he was living it.

            The events of the day had taxed him and, to his relief, he could easily drift off to sleep. He was eager—in an apprehensive rip-off-the-Band-Aid way—to review the principal’s e-mail. Goro knew he would ultimately choose Shujin, and wanted to consume every detail of what he was getting into. Because the very thought of going about his normal routine at school that day made his legs weak and sickened him to the point of dry heaving, he skipped out.

            Missing school was rare for him, but he’d been forced to make such a choice before. Desperate times called for desperate measures. He went to the nearest public library for computer access. He’d peeked at the e-mail briefly through his phone, but he hated viewing an attached document on such a tiny screen.

            And he may have been sliiightly procrastinating.

            Once Goro pulled up the document of schools and notes from the principal, he ran his eyes over the list just in case something more appealing caught his attention. But, as expected, Shujin ended up being the school he settled on for his last year.

            Then, he arrived at the final paragraph. She wrote:

            _For the best interest of all involved, we believe it most prudent to take no more than one week from December 12 th to make your decision. You will finish your second term here, and then carry out the rest of your high school career at the institution of choice._

 

             This was not what they had agreed to. Foolish of him to assume the school would keep him around any longer than they had to. Goro exhaled sharply through his teeth and shut down the computer. He put as much force as he could into the clicks of the mouse, and the kid at the computer next to him gave him an uncomfortable side glance.

            Goro’s mind refused to focus on his studies—but what did it matter if he’d be going to Shujin anyway?

            Aimlessly, he wandered Yongenjaya, keeping his eyes peeled for Help Wanted ads to file away in his brain for when he had some semblance of motivation. His current part-time job was offered by his school library, after all. Goro walked, passing each shop and home listlessly even as it started to drizzle rain. Time passed him by, half of it a dissociated tangle inside his head.

            He was so sick of taking the shit authority figures gave him.

            Walking into Leblanc with a hair trigger temper, Sakura’s usual greeting in absence of customers was the only excuse he needed to snap. Nothing loud, but it seethed from something murky and concentrated.

            “Staying outta trouble?” he asked when Goro walked in. The school must have been waiting until Goro made his decision before keeping Sakura in the loop. Might as well take care of everything at once.

            “And what would you do if I said no?”

            Sakura glanced up from his newspaper, eyes normally half-lidded in complacence widened and turned to meet Goro’s. The man offered no retort, sensing something dark rather than simply snarky in his tone.

            “You made a stupid decision taking me in, Sakura-san.”

            Sakura blinked. “Did something happen?” he asked, newspaper curled over in his hands, forgotten.

            Goro was surprised not to receive some sort of rebuke or strike to the head for his behavior. He’d prepared for physical or verbal violence, mentally armed and ready to fight fire with fire.

            But no. The innocent surprise and concern in Sakura’s voice pierced through his armor, stunning him momentarily. Suddenly, Goro felt sick again. Blindsided by a wave of nausea and dizziness, he dropped his schoolbag. The contents spilled onto the floor as he sought refuge at the nearest booth. Sakura was saying something, but he didn’t register any of it. A moment later, the man sat opposite him.

            “Something you need to get off your chest, Goro-kun?” His tone was tempered with something warm—caring, if Goro could believe that someone cared about him. He pressed his palms over his eyes as he waited for the assault from his own body and mind to pass.

Through gritted teeth, he replied, “I’m fine.”

            All he could see were red spots in the darkness from the pressure of his own hands. Sakura was quiet for a beat and sighed before getting up.

            _Good,_ thought Goro. _Leave_.

            Sakura shuffled behind the counter and busied himself with the house blend, pouring the coffee and gathering one container each of milk and sugar. What Goro didn’t expect is that he brought it back over to the booth, his temporary haven.

            “Not sure what you like,” he said, “but I drink mine black. You get the pure flavor that way.”

            Goro stared, first at Sakura, then at the steaming mug in front of him. He couldn’t speak, as if his brain couldn’t output words.

            “Kid,” Sakura tried again, “high school sucks.”

            Goro was able to nod, albeit numbly.

            “I don’t know what’s going on with you and I couldn’t relate to kids if my life depended on it, but uh, what I’m trying to say is that…I have a feeling I won’t regret taking you in. I got a sixth sense about these things.” He tapped his temple, his cheeks slightly pink. This type of talk was probably foreign territory for him.

            Still, Sakura was a fool. Goro let him think his thoughts; the inevitable phone call from the principal would set him straight.

            For the next week, Goro didn’t leave Leblanc.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bathroom at the top of the gymnasium is based off of the one in my old high school. It had marble floors O.O  
> I had more notes, but decided not to put them in. They're not really relevant anymore.
> 
> Feel free to follow my trash Twitter if you're bored: twitter.com/Xyalinn

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to follow my trash Twitter if you're bored: twitter.com/Xyalinn


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